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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29871492">Patient Breaths</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bisexual_Bean/pseuds/Bisexual_Bean'>Bisexual_Bean</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, But its in a dream so idk if it actually counts, Hurt/Comfort, I needed comforting after that last stream so here, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nightmares, Prison, Protective Sam | Awesamdude, Scared TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), awesamdad</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:00:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,711</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29871492</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bisexual_Bean/pseuds/Bisexual_Bean</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>His eyes land on Tommy.</p><p>The kid is holding a burnt out candle on a holder at his side, the melted wax spilling over the edge of the metal lip and running over Tommy's fingers and downward towards his wrist, but Sam doubts the teen is barely able to feel it with how badly his hands are shaking. His chest rises and falls to fast for Sam to keep up with, narrow shoulders heaving with each painful sounding wheeze coming from the boys lips.</p><p>Sam pushes himself up, reaches forward, and lets his hand hover just above Tommy's arm, "Hey," He whispers, "Hey kiddo," Keeps his voice soft and even, his movements slow and easily predictable. Treats Tommy like the frightened and cornered deer that he so easily resembles in the current moment, "Did you have a nightmare...?"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sam | Awesamdude &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>353</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Completed stories I've read</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Patient Breaths</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There's a hand on his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sam?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam groans, throws an arm over his face. He hears a hitch of breath at the movement and shifting weight on hesitant steps next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"S-Sam...?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stutter is what finally gets him to open his eyes. First, to the skin of his arm, pressed firmly against his face. Then, to the darkness of the room, shrouded in the faintest rays of moonlight managing to make their way through the small slit in his curtains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wha..." He furrows his brow, rubs the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand, and lets his still adjusting eyes flicker around the room in search of the sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And land on Tommy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kid is holding a burnt out candle on a holder at his side, the melted wax spilling over the edge of the metal lip and running over Tommy's fingers and downward towards his wrist, but Sam doubts the teen is barely able to feel it with how badly his hands are shaking. His chest rises and falls to fast for Sam to keep up with, narrow shoulders heaving with each painful sounding wheeze coming from the boys lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam pushes himself up, reaches forward, and lets his hand hover just above Tommy's arm, "Hey," He whispers, "Hey kiddo," Keeps his voice soft and even, his movements slow and easily predictable. Treats Tommy like the frightened and cornered deer that he so easily resembles in the current moment, "Did you have a nightmare...?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A harsh swallow, "I-" Tommy cuts himself off with a choked sob. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The still hot candle holder shakes and more wax spills onto Tommy's skin. Sam pauses, making sure not to make any sudden movements, and grabs the edge of his blanket, carefully grabbing onto the lip of the holder, tugging it away from Tommy's grasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without anything to hold onto his free hand, the other gripping the front of his shirt like it was the only thing helping him breath what little amount he was, he moves it to his hair, red wax and matching red burn marks standing out against blond hair like creeping vines.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can I touch you?" Sam paces each word so Tommy hears them clearly. He waits a moment, smiles encouragingly when Tommy sends him a frightened look, then nods in acceptance with the teen shakes his head in a firm 'no'.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ok, that's ok. Do you think you can make it to the bathroom them? I want you to run your hands under some cold water."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boys grip on his hair tightens, "C-Cold-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lukewarm," He corrects quickly, carefully stands and keeps his hands in Tommy's vision the whole time, "Nice, room temperature water."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another few long seconds pass before the teen nods and Sam leads them both to the bathroom attached to his bedroom, turns on the water and tests it to make sure its not to hot nor to cold, then sits down on the toilet seat so he wont hover over the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy takes his time approaching the room, nervously glancing around the four walls like they would trap him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can leave if you-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No!" it's the loudest Tommy's been all night and Sam can tell that he regrets his volume as soon as the words passed through his lips, folding his shoulders forward and shrinking into himself, "Please..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ok. Take all the time you need."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Sam waits patiently, listening to the rush of water from the tap for the whole 10 minutes it takes for Tommy to make his way into the room and to the sink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blue eyes flicker between Sam and the water, between his hands and the porcelain, "Y..." A pause. Sam watches him swallow, "You can touch my hands..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiles, nods, and scoots forward so he's closer to the sink, "Only your hands. Got it. Can I stand or is that too much?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shake of the head, "You can stand..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam pays close attention to the rise and fall of Tommy's chest, makes sure his breathing doesn't pick back up into the rash and uneven breaths it had been 10 minutes earlier as he rises to his feet, reaching forward and taking the burnt hand offered to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The skin doesnt look nearly as bad up close, vein like lines trailing over the skin. But he can see spots where the wax broke off when Tommy buried his hand in his hair, feels a tinge of pain travel to his heart at the thought of Tommy struggling by himself long enough for a candle (Granted small to begin with but still) to melt and cover his hand, " I'm going to run it under the facet now ok?" A shaky nod. Sam hums, keeps his touch light as he moves it to the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy flinches at the first few drops of water on his skin before forcibly settling, allowing Sam to remove the wax from his skin and smooth his fingertips over each of the burn marks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They wont have to be wrapped, but I'm going to apply some burn cream just to be safe."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After another nod of confirmation Sam grabs it out of the first aid kit, dries Tommy's hand off, and rubs the cream into his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're breathing better," He points out as he shuts the kit and returns it back to its spot under the skin, watches Tommy's shoulders move with each breath, "Do you want to talk about it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy bites his lip, keeps his gaze lowered. Sam decides not to mention how his hands nervously tug and stretch the hem of his shirt, "I'm not going to die right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And this is where Sam freezes. Feels his heart skip a beat. Because the idea of Tommy dying isn't even something his brain can comprehend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To not have the grinning teen wake him up during the early mornings just to make breakfast, or hear him shout about going to Tubbo's in the afternoon and waiting for him to get home with dinner on the table in the evenings. Carry him to bed on the weekends when Tommy insists on late night movie nights despite both of them knowing he wont even make it through the first movie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bright eyes that he remembers once being so dull and untrusting. The aggressive barking and door slamming and picking fights back when he had first met Tommy and brought the kid into his home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," His voice is firm. "Not while I'm here. Not while I'm around."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because there's no way he would ever let Tommy die before him. Tommy is going to live until he is old and grey and can spite everyone in the world who ever thought that a 'problem child' foster kid was going to end up dumped in the streets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Tommy is still looking down, still refusing to meet his eyes and the grip on his shirt tightens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I...I dreamt that I was killed," The teen whispers, shoulders trembling like he was scared of the words, "That I was somewhere small and cramped and dark and wet and there were fists hitting be over and over and over again no matter how many times i told them to stop and I-" He cuts himself off with a strangled gasp of breath, teary eyes rising to meet his and Sam feels a punch to the gut at the look in his eyes, "I was screaming for you...But you weren't answering. And then. And then..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And before Sam knows it he has a trembling teen pressing himself as close to Sam as he can manage, the sobs from earlier now back full force as Tommy clings to the front of Sam's shirt like it would shield him from his own thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't want to die!" He screams into Sam's chest, "I don't want to leave you or Tubbo or anyone!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes all of his strength to keep each of his breaths even, tries his hardest not to give into the slow growing panic swelling inside him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leans back against the sink, allows himself to sling back to the shorter, run his hands through blond hair, and remind himself on repeat that Tommy is <em>here</em>. That Tommy is <em>safe</em> and with <em>him</em> and no one is going to change that if he has any say in the matter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who knows how much more time passes before Tommy begins the slump forward, obviously exhausted from the events of the night. Sam himself has managed to calm down some, rubbing small circles into the boys back, "Lets get you back to bed yeah? I think you'll feel better in the morning."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can I stay here? J...Just for tonight?" The uncertainly has Sam wanting to hold Tommy even closer and protect him from the word but he knew that wasn't possible. So instead he smooths his hands up the teens arms till they rest on his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You are always welcome here. Whenever you need it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A nod under his chin, curls brushing against his throat, was enough for Sam to slowly begin moving them back to his bed, settling in first before helping Tommy get comfortable and tucked in under the sheets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now, lets get some rest and tomorrow I'll make pancakes ok?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy was already half asleep against him, cheek pressed up against his shoulder, "Chocolate...Chocolate chip pancakes..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snorts, runs a hand down the teens back, and presses a kiss to the crown of his head, "Chocolate chip pancakes. You got it bud."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then all Sam hears is quiet, even breaths against his collarbone, and the rustling of wind against his window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sigh passes through his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thinks of his own dream before Tommy had woken him. Of lava bubbling and popping and loud booming laughter echoing from behind it and him on his hands and knees screaming. Screaming and yelling and shouting and <em>begging</em> while tears were streaming down his face but he had paid them no mind. Too focused on whatever anger and grief had been fueling his cries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then Tommy shifts, hums in contentment in his sleep, and Sam smiles, settles further into the blankets, and drifts off to bed.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I shit you not my friend and I finished Tommy's stream the other day and I immediately went "Welp! Time to write some hurt comfort to make me feel better!" And here we are now. I guess you can consider this a 'kinda' foster AU, but I didn't really have anything in mind when I started writing so this just turned into whatever my hands wanted at the time. Anyway, I hope all of you are taking care of yourselves with everything going on, and enjoy!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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